


Swept Away

by DalishGrey, LauraEMoriarty



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: But not used, Christmas, F/M, Friends are mentioned, Gathering, Mass Effect - Freeform, Post-War, Sexual Content, The Next Step - Freeform, a gift, love making, loving gestures, shega, small present big meaning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 03:14:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17256542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DalishGrey/pseuds/DalishGrey, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LauraEMoriarty/pseuds/LauraEMoriarty
Summary: It was the simple things, a gathering of friends and family at Christmas, filled with moments of love and happiness. But he, he was her saving grace, her safety and the greatest thing to ever happen to her, and she wanted to make sure he knew that.





	Swept Away

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vorcha_Girl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vorcha_Girl/gifts).



> A little piece for one of the best Shega writers out there!  
> I enlisted some help, and we both hope you love it!
> 
> Hoping you had a wonderful Christmas/Yule and wishing you an amazing New Year!

The early morning light peeked through the sheer curtains and bathed the room in a pale golden hue. Slowly her eyes opened, blinking away the night before as her gaze rested on the man sleeping next to her. His tanned skin had lightened in the winter sun and a small smatter of faint freckles covered his nose; an almost cute contrast to the harsh lines of his features. She gently traced a small scar on his cheekbone, smiling as she remembered how he got it. The chaos of building the cottage; from the stray splatters of paint to the unfortunate wooden beam that caught the side of his cheekbone.    
   
He grunted in his sleep and buried himself deeper in the plush white blankets.    
   
Shepard tucked a lock of chestnut brown hair behind her ear and smiled as she rolled out of bed, and her feet met the soft carpet. She sighed contentedly and, without wanting to wake him, crept out of the room. Moving down the small stairs with light feet, she headed into the living room, her target sitting at the bottom of the Christmas tree.    
   
James had been crashing at her place frequently over the past few months, sometimes by arrangement, others by one of them asking.    
   
Her heart fluttered as the memories flooded to mind; every three am talk and drowsy morning kisses. He made her feel  _alive_ , a million sensations flooding her as they talked, long into the night, entwined on the couch. This morning had been no different—kisses soft, warm, loving. Languid kisses that led into  _more_  than just kisses, exploration of one another’s bodies.   
  
Deciding that coffee was definitely needed, Shepard moved into the light-flooded kitchen. She had been preparing for weeks now—the food was made, the drinks were organised. She just had one final thing to do, but she didn’t want to think about that now.  

People would start arriving soon. Garrus, Tali, Kal’Reegar, everyone from both the SR-1 and the SR-2 had been welcome to join them. Yet amidst this joyous gathering, there were empty chairs where people should have been, place settings laid out for those who were no longer present. They were still  _there,_ lingering in the in-between worlds that were neither life, nor death. Their memories were honoured, and those who had not been there to see the end of the war were always with them at this time. 

Coffee made for both of them, Shepard wandered back into the bedroom that had rapidly become  _theirs_. It was hard for her to think of a time without James in her life, without the warm solidity of his embrace on the nights where neither of them slept well. James sat up in bed, smiling at her as she came towards him. 

“Morning,” Shepard said, handing him his coffee before setting hers down on the bedside table before clambering up onto the bed herself. He wrapped his free arm around her, drawing her close. Shepard loved those mornings, the sleepy, warm mornings where they made love slowly, time seeming to stand still. 

It seemed to be that sort of morning, the mornings where the world and time stood apart from them, flowing around them as their mouths met, a burning kiss of desire and longing, of  _wanting_. Their coffee forgotten as James’s hand tangled in her chestnut hair, the other cradling her neck. Her hands were on his shoulders, then in the tufts of his short hair. His hands sought out the bottom of her tank top, tugging it up over her head. She helped divest him of his own t-shirt, her hands resting lightly on his chest as he pulled her back close for another searing kiss that left her breathless, and wanting more. 

He pinned her, rolling them both over as he straddled her, a devious look in his eyes. She saw the hunger lurking there, the sheer  _wanting_  of everything that they had. Her hand reached down to stroke him, and James groaned. He was everything she had ever wanted, a generous-hearted man, solid and unmovable in the face of danger. Right now, the only danger she faced was the orgasm that began, and he had been responsible for it.   
  


«—•—»   
  


Presents were not something she had received in the years she’d been in the Alliance, and she’d given even fewer. Christmas had been something she’d not observed too often, too little time, and too much time running from firefights. But since the end of the war, she wanted to make an effort—to truly celebrate what she had left from it—and what she had gained.   
  


The doorbell rang, and Shepard stood to answer it.   
  


As the people she loved crowded around in their small dining room, Kaidan and his girlfriend Rose, Kal’Reegar and Tali, both grinning in their envirosuits,  Garrus and his girlfriend Ramora, and Joker, as well as all the others she had come to call family. Within minutes of everyone’s arrival, food was being devoured; she’d taken care to prepare for the variety of dietary needs, which seemed to go well as little by little the food disappeared.    
   
She couldn’t tell how long had actually passed, but the moment she saw a drunk Joker sleeping with his face  _almost_ in a pile of mashed potatoes and the others all napping on the sofa and in front of the fireplace, she knew it had at least been a few hours. With everyone seemingly satisfied, she plucked a small present from beneath the tree and sauntered into the kitchen, to find James in an apron and doing the many dishes. She smiled softly, the sight of him being so domestic would never fail to make her heart flutter.   
   
“James?” She called, wanting to steal him away for a moment.   
   
He turned to her, bright-eyed and curious.    
   
“What’s up?” James smiled, putting down the dish in his hands.   
   
“Come with me.”    
   
He followed her upstairs without hesitation, and for a moment she was glad he couldn’t hear her heart pounding.    
   
Shepard took his hand and lead him to the bed, trying to conceal her nervous tremble, though based on the way James squeezed her hand, she wasn’t hiding it very well. Silently, she sat down on the bed and handed him the small present.  

James eyed the small box, turning it over in his hands as a look of confusion and contemplation washed over his face.    
   
“What is it?” he asked, almost coyly. He lifted it close to his face and stared at it for a few moments.   
   
“You see … there’s this thing about presents, you have to unwrap them to find out what’s inside.” Shepard smirked, though it quickly became an innocent smile when James shot a sarcastic glance her way. “Just open it,” she chuckled, trying to ignore the nervous hammering of her heart.   
   
He peeled off the small amount of wrapping paper with an excruciating slowness, in what she assumed was an attempt to increase the tension.    
   
“For God’s sake James just open it.” She all-but-ordered, not that she could, or would. Her heart pounded harder with every passing second and her palms started to sweat. Shepard found it almost ironic; she had faced a rogue Spectre, overcome The Collectors, destroyed the Reapers  _and_  survived Donnell Udina and yet … this was more nerve-wracking than all of them combined. Until, finally, he opened the small metal box.    
   
James stopped moving, eyebrows raised in surprise and his lips parted as though he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.   
   
“Is this …?” He started, his lips quirking into a gradually increasing smile.   
   
“A key! For here … so you can stay, whenever you want to, or always, or not at all, it’s up to you really.” Every word poured out of her lips without a moment for breath.    
   
James laughed loudly and sat beside her, before rolling her onto her back.   
   
“You’re cute when you’re nervous, Lola,” he nuzzled into her neck and pressed a quick kiss to her jaw. “And thank you.” James added, his eyes shining the moment she turned to face him.   
   
“You’re welcome, James.” She said in almost a whisper, a blush spreading over her cheeks. “Merry Christmas.” There was no denying how much she loved him, and he her,    
   
He pressed his lips to hers, softly at first, his hand gliding down her arm and to her waist, before coming to rest on her hip. The key had been a simple gesture, to solidify what they already know; they’re still moving forward but it was enough.    
   
It was near impossible for them to touch without getting swept away in one another. Eye to eye, nose to nose, within mere moments they were lost in each other; regardless of the sleeping guests downstairs, for now, it was just her and James.     
  
James hooked his fingers in the elastic of her knickers, tugging them lower as his mouth found her breast, tongue laving over the hardened pebble of her nipple, her hands sliding down into his own undershorts. He moaned into her mouth as she found his shaft, the velvety smoothness of it never ceasing to amaze her. Their tongues met, sliding against one another in their embrace. His hand reached between her folds, and Shepard felt the wetness of her desire as James’s fingers found the nub hidden between her thighs. She rocked against his fingers, desperate for the friction, loving how he made her come alive with such simple touches. He reached lower, her own hand moving against his shaft, faster and faster as the fingers in her quim met each stroke.   
  
Shepard came undone, her head thrown back against her pillows, eyes closing in ecstasy. James muttered something in Spanish that could’ve been a prayer. He guided himself into her slick warmth, pausing, allowing her to adjust before they began moving in a dance older than the stars, a primal need that both of them sought. She arched into James’s touch, desperate to be one with another. His hands never stopped the worshiping of her body, just as hers never left his. It felt cliched to say every sensation resounded with a greater intensity, every subtle touch and fierce kiss, different but familiar; as though their bodies were confirming everything they felt in that moment. Yet it was all that made sense.    
  
The impending orgasm rose until it overflowed, engulfing their senses and hitting both of them with a blissful relief.     
   
James’ chuckle resonated in his chest, his heavy breaths brushing against her ear. He relaxed, his weight pressing onto her, before he rolled off of her and pulled her into a tired hug.    
   
She could have slept in that moment, her head against the warmth of his chest, legs intertwined and heartbeats pattering to the same emotional melody. He was her life, her love, her saving grace who pulled her back from the edge of the precipice she’d been stood on. James had rescued her, over and over again, and now they were committed to one another, bound by joint survival and a love that neither of them expected but both welcomed. Her breaths slowed, peace seeping in to every fibre of her body as she rested in the safety of him. She didn’t ask for much, only that she be allowed these moments with James.


End file.
